Ashley Carufel | Senior | Journalism | Paris, France | Program: AUP
I want to have an affair with cheese.
Gooey cheese, wax-covered cheese, or even stinky cheese—there is not one type I would turn down. Unfortunately for me, I’ve finally moved to an urban mecca of cheese better known as Paris. I’m spending the fall semester of my senior year studying abroad in Paris where the cheese is bountiful and wine flows like, well, wine.
My first two weeks here have already been an impacting experience. This semester marks my third attempt to study abroad. After deciding against it twice before, these weeks of snacking on croissants and other unpronounceable goodies while sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower have been more than surreal. I know I chose a fantastic way to avoid the reality of graduation looming just a semester away.
Despite the excitement of being in Paris, I have already encountered challenges. After freshmen year ends, I would argue that most GW students have their friend group already set and they occasionally make new friends. Now here I am in my senior year having to make the desperate “please be my friend” face. However, I chose to come here to push beyond my own comfort zone, and I have already experienced the rewards of that choice. I have gone sightseeing all over Paris and finally got to see what the real Louvre looks like (it’s prettier than any of the Google Images); I have eaten at a fondue house that serves wine in baby bottles; and I have started to enjoy wine more than cosmopolitans, which I never thought would happen.
Paris certainly has a personality, and I often find myself being noticed for “being American.” One afternoon I was sitting in the grassy area in front of the Eiffel Tower talking with friends when an Asian man asked me in broken English to take a picture with him. I thought he meant for him and maybe he confused the two words. He insisted the picture be with him. Even when I offered to take the camera from the man’s friend, I realized he really did want me in the photo. After asking for permission, he put his arm around me and posed in front of the Eiffel Tower. My friends and I assumed he heard us speaking English, but I still find it creepy that his entire family will be looking at a picture of him and this random American he found.
Of all my initial experiences, I feel I have adapted to the language barrier far better than I anticipated. I studied French for seven years but stopped two years ago, so I was slightly worried before I left for Paris that I would struggle. I am amazed how fast my vocabulary and reading comprehension has come back to me. I have been understanding people and signs better than I am able to articulate a response though. But I still deserve an A for effort.
Already I have noticed myself feeling increasingly comfortable here in Paris. The landscape is so beautiful, and the streets smell unjustly delicious. I love taking the metro to class and passing a tempting bakery that also has a view of the Eiffel Tower from the sidewalk. Every girl should be so fortunate.
My mom says, “It’ll be an experience” about everything—and moms are never wrong. Every person, place, and event in our lives transforms us into who we are. So whether I spend this semester speaking broken French, seeing as much of Europe as I can afford, or gaining ten pounds from indulging in cheese—it’ll be an experience.
